


Sex and Chanel No. 5 (Vol. 1)

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-17
Updated: 2006-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-15 13:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Once the door was locked, with him on the other side, the story was completely different.  "Tell me that this isn't how you greet all your clients," he murmured into her ear, in between kisses to her neck.





	Sex and Chanel No. 5 (Vol. 1)

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Okay, so we all know that CJ doesn't have a kid. But, as in all my writing, I do my best to keep the storyline as cannon as possible, so, I'm hoping that by the end of this, you'll have forgotten that Bethy is not cannon.  
  
Also, while not songfic, the inspiration for this series came after listening to Tori Amos' "The Beekeeper" album, specifically, the song _Ribbons Undone_.  


* * *

**Written:** 2006-05-14  
**Disclaimer:** CJ Cregg is not mine, nor for that matter is Simon Donovan, Josh Lyman, Jed Bartlet, Toby Zeigler, or any of the other West Wing characters that show up in this story. Aaron Sorkin created those characters and John Wells currently owns the rights and I only get to take them out and play on occasion and I don’t make any money doing it. Elizabeth Cregg, Michael Bell, and any other original characters, however, are mine. Please respect them as such – after all, I don’t make any money with these characters either.  


**_I decide to do something dangerous, rebellious, perhaps even blasphemous. I can no longer pray to God so I will pray to the Virgin Mary instead. This decision makes me nervous, as if I'm about to steal. My heart beats harder, my hands feel cold. I feel I'm about to get caught._** ~The Cat's Eye (Margaret Atwood, c. 1988) 

John's lips touched hers briefly, in fact, if anyone looked over to see them, they would think it nothing more than a peck on the cheek. They wouldn't see his fingers link with hers, or the look between the two of them as he pulled back. "I need to get home," he whispered. 

CJ didn't say anything, she didn't need to, and speaking would ruin the moment between them. They'd said plenty at dinner, touched innocently across the table, laughed and looked into each other's eyes; they didn't need to speak right now. Not in this breath. Maybe the next. He told her everything with his eyes and she nodded, and squeezed his fingers, and stepped back, putting full professional distance between them. And then, she spoke, once the mood had changed and again there were valets and other restaurant patrons around them. "Good night, Senator." Her smile was, somehow, genuine. She didn't want to think that he was going home to make love to the woman who, by law, had the right to make love to him. "My office will be in touch with press schedules, agenda items, and meeting times." 

"Thank you, CJ." John swallowed, hard, and knew that she could see the lump as it traveled down his throat. "I'm looking forward to working with your office." 

"I am as well." She took a deep breath and let it out before sliding the business card she'd prepared into his hand. "This is how you can reach me if you have any questions. As a rule, my assistant, Carol, fields my phone calls and she's available from eight am to six pm. For anything out side of those hours, my personal information is on the back." The butterflies in her stomach threatened to make a physical appearance onto his shoes while the two of them waited for the valets to bring the cars around. She looked around for a minute, swearing she could hear the shuttle click of the cameras from _Roll Call_ and the _Enquirer._

"Thank you." John slid the business card into his breast pocket. "My office will be in touch." His need to reach out and slip his hands onto her perfect waist was cut short by his car pulling up in front of them. Instead, he nodded his goodnight and left, before he made the mistake of asking if he could follow her home. He recognized her invitation and was ready to step through the open door; his heart raced as he drove home to his wife. This wasn't him, this wasn't who he was or what he was, this was insanity. He was married, happily, to a woman he loved. He was only attracted to CJ Cregg and their one night together in New York had been a mistake, one they both needed to forget. 

*** 

A sorrowful "woof" greeted CJ as she came through the door. An aging cocker spaniel padded into the foyer, and somehow, despite his cataract-covered eyes, managed give her a look demanding to know where she'd been and whom she'd been with. "Hey, Arthur." Dropping her briefcase onto the floor, she knelt down to stroke his old head. "You want to wander down by the park and guard me from potential killers? I'm sorry I'm so late. I know you've had to wait, but I had dinner with that same man I told you about, the one from New York. Now don't lecture me, I know he's married. But you'd like him, Arthur, really. Okay, let me get your leash." Grabbing her mace along with his leash, CJ headed back outside into the late Arlington night. Arthur had been, at one time, a very good guard dog. Now, the fifteen-year-old dog could barely see past his own paws, and it broke CJ's heart. The time was coming for her to let him sleep forever, but she wasn't ready to say good-bye. Not yet. Tears dotted her eyes and she looked down, watching Arthur as he sniffed around a patch of grass. "You know what, dog, you depress me sometimes." He looked up at her, his mostly vacant eyes expressing his apologies, and he wandered back and nosed at her leg. He knew something else was bothering her. "Yeah, I know, it's silly to be upset over a guy you won't let into the apartment anyway ... even if we could be together. Which we can't, so stop lecturing me." She chuckled, as Arthur seemed to shrug proudly and then wandered back to the patch of grass. He had yet to approve of any man, save for Toby, that CJ brought home and to his old dog ears, this guy problem was yet another incursion into his territory that he'd be able to chase away. 

*** 

After pulling into the garage, John sat for a few minutes, thinking, letting the realization of what he was about to do sink in. When he'd walked into that party, he hadn't expected to meet _her_. He hadn't expected to look into those rich, painfully walled-up blue eyes and feel his heart race. He hadn't expected that kiss down in the garden to awaken feelings that he'd thought long dead. He hadn't expected for that night in New York to become more than a one-night thing. If he was a smart man, and John Hoynes knew that he wasn't when it came to women, he would go upstairs to his wife and make love to her. He would accept that night with CJ as a stress reliever, he would move on. But it was more than that. He'd looked into CJ's eyes each and every time she came, and they'd connected on a deeper level than he'd ever had with Suzanne. This wasn't just a one-night stand. He turned the business card over and over in his hands, looking at her name in perfect black, block print on the front: _Dr. CJ Cregg, PhD. Media Director, EMILY's List. 1120 Connecticut Avenue NW, Suite 1100, Washington, DC 20036, (202) 326-1400 ext 202; fax: (202) 326-1415; cjcregg@emilyslist.org._ On the back, in purple pen, in her slightly askew handwriting: _home: (703) 324-4556; cjcregg@yahoo.com._ He could tell by the penmanship that she'd been scared when she wrote the numbers down, he could tell when she'd handed him the card that she was sharing his crisis. But she'd given him the card; she'd read his mind. Glancing skyward and asking God for forgiveness, he slipped the card back into his shirt pocket and tiptoed into the house. 

*** 

CJ jumped when her phone rang. Padding out into the living room, she finished tying her hair up before answering. "Toby," she sighed, "if this is you, it's way too late and I'll talk to you about your cold feet regarding Andrea tomorrow." 

"It isn't Toby." John closed the door to his study, whispering so he wouldn't wake Suzanne. 

"John ..." CJ bit her lip. She'd known what she was doing when she handed him that business card, but she hadn't expected him to call so quickly. 

"I want to see you again, CJ. Away from work. I don't care if we have to use work as a cover, if that's how we get around it; I don't care how incredibly cheesy this sounds, I want to see you." 

"John ..." she felt the need to move into her bedroom and shut the door. Slowly, she crawled across the comforter and settled on her bed. Arthur protested, growling at the phone as she moved him aside, but after a minute snuggled down into a new spot, practically in CJ's lap. "I ... I don't know what I was doing ... I ..." 

"Yes, you did. We both did. Claudia ..." his voice dropped even lower, "I want to see you again. I want to be with you again." 

CJ took a deep breath. "Carol will call your assistant tomorrow, we'll set up a late dinner to discuss specific details of financing." She ran her hand down the front of her body, both trying to calm her nerves and remembering the way his fingers made her feel. "I want to see you too. God, I want to see you too." 

"Tomorrow night. Suzanne is flying back to-" 

"No." CJ cut him off. "We aren't going to already start talking about sneaking around behind your wife's back. Not yet. Not until ..." she rolled her eyes skyward, "I sound like a character from a Danielle Steele novel." 

"You are one." He laughed. "But so am I." 

"John ..." CJ sighed, "this is a really, really bad idea." 

"I know. But it feels right to me. I don't get it, but it does." 

"It feels right to me too. It's why I went back to your room with you. But it's still a really, really bad idea." Her hand toyed with the edge of her panties as she thought about his touch and what his tongue was capable of doing. 

"I know." He repeated. Closing his eyes, he envisioned her lying there, naked, gasping his name as he moved inside of her, it was enough to tempt him to ask for her address and run right over there. But common sense ruled out. "I'm hanging up now. I'll talk to you tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow night." She sighed. "Good night, John." 

*** 

He looked at the phone for a long time before making his way slowly into his and Suzanne's bedroom. Suzanne lay on her side, the sheet up over her shoulder, her long hair braided tightly to one side. From the angle of her hands, he could tell she'd fallen asleep reading, and barely been able to reach up to turn off the lamp. What was he thinking? 

Carefully, he shed his jacket and tossed it into the clothes hamper, wondering if Suzanne could smell his guilt along with CJ's perfume. The other woman's soft scent lingered in his nostrils, tantalizing him, daring him to do what he swore he'd never do. 

"You were right, it did run late. It's after midnight." Suzanne sat up and looked through the dim room to her husband's silhouette. Something was changing about him. 

"I'm sorry, Suzie." Taking care to change and finish getting ready for bed, John took his time before joining Suzanne. Her touch against his chest was gentle, but demanded he remember just who she was in his life. 

Letting her fingers gently scratch at John's chest, Suzanne took a deep breath, expecting her husband's strong scent to fill the air. Instead it was weaker, covered over by a heavy dose of Chanel No. 5. "It's all right, John." She nipped his neck, staking her claim through the other woman's perfume. "But it is late and I have a flight tomorrow. Think we could talk later? It's going to be a while before we see each other again ..." As his body reacted to hers, Suzanne let her insecurities slip away. She wouldn't be this jealous if his new fundraiser was a man. But this person wasn't, and she could tell by the way John carried himself that he thought this woman was beautiful, and she could tell by the way he'd shed his jacket that the woman's perfume lingered where it shouldn't, and she could tell that there was something John wasn't daring to tell her. Chanel No, 5. The perfume, she felt, of whores and cheap sluts who wanted to pretend they were better than they really were. She could smell it across a room, and her husband had come home with it on his clothes twice now in just a few days. Suzanne had every right to be jealous and she pushed her husband back into the mattress and took complete advantage of his body. He was hers, and before she left to return to Texas and their children and the life they'd had together before Washington, she would leave her own mark on him, a mark that the woman who wore Chanel No. 5 couldn't erase. 

*** 

John had to catch his breath when CJ opened the door. She stood before him, dressed appropriately enough for a business dinner in her home, but he knew she'd worn what she had just for him. The black flared pants rested low on her hips, the blouse was low cut - low enough that all he had to do was push it to the side. "Good evening, Ms. Cregg." He smiled, trying to appear professional to anyone who might see him entering her home. But once the door was locked, with him on the other side, the story was completely different. "Tell me that this isn't how you greet all your clients," he murmured into her ear, in between kisses to her neck. 

"Shut up." CJ giggled and let him pin her back against the door. They did have to work. She was, at some point, going to have to put in billable hours, but it felt good to have his arms around her and his lips making love to her. Food could wait, work could wait, right now, she wanted everything she'd been missing for these few days. 

"CJ ..." John tugged her shirt over her head and went after her breasts, not even bothering to move the flimsy lace of her bra aside as he teased her nipples. "I'll take you right here up against your door, but I'd love to see your bedroom." CJ ducked out from under his arms and led the way down the hall. Halfway there, Arthur stopped them. He looked up at John, sniffed at his shoes, and then continued on to the couch. 

"Well," CJ turned in his arms to kiss him again, "you must be special. Arthur doesn't approve of anyone I bring home." 

"I'll remember that. If your dog approves ..." he chuckled as she found her way into his arms again and he realized that they'd reached her bed. They stopped talking and focused on each other, bodies moving in perfect tandem as clothes fell to the floor and they collapsed onto her comforter, breathing together, gasping together. It was too much to take at first and he slipped into her body, stilling as she gasped at his intrusion. From the living room, Arthur barked once, a warning it seemed, and as John began to move, peace settled in the home, the silence interrupted only by muted cries from the lovers as they moved each other toward climax. And as before, as they came, their eyes met and the connection forged even deeper. 

CJ arched up against him, her eyes still locked with his, their fingers linking tightly as she cried his name. He'd removed his wedding ring. 

"Claudia ..." he moaned, collapsing into her as she arched against him. Her legs tightened, pulling him closer, and he linked their fingers, wondering if he squeezed hard enough, could he pass what he was feeling into her body. 

It took several moments for their heartbeats to still before he dared to roll off her. So matched were their bodies that he felt comfortable laying there, covering her body with his, holding her tightly while they found their way back to Earth. Slowly, he moved, reaching down to pull the soft comforter over them. CJ curled back up against him, rubbing her foot against his leg. 

"This could be trouble, John." She closed her eyes as his arms tightened around her. 

"It is." He nuzzled her neck, smelling their combined scent on her body. "It already is." 

"Where are we going from here? Should we even analyze it ... should ..." 

"Don't think about that right now, Claudia. Just don't." 

She took his hint and changed the subject. "I usually shoot people for calling me Claudia." 

"It fits you. CJ is for playful and professional, Claudia is for moments like these." 

She rolled her eyes; getting used to his cornball routine was going to take a while. "Well, whatever moments like these are ... I like this. I like it." 

"So do I." He snuggled closer. "So we don't think. Not yet, not right now. Deal?" 

"Deal." 

"Can I stay the night?" He kissed her neck again. 

She knew her answer was a bad idea, and she wanted to chalk it up to loneliness and the afterglow in the moment, but it was more than that. She _wanted_ John to stay. "Of course," she whispered. 

*** 

"Hola, Madam Hoynes." The warm smile from the woman, a woman Suzanne was sure was illegal, made Suzanne's stomach turn. She never trusted green-cards, always completely sure that someone was going to show up with documents stating that her entire staff was here on forged papers. _FYI_ would be the end of her husband's career. "Welcome back," the accent still rolled over her jetlagged body. "Senor Hoynes is in his study with Madam Cregg. They are almost done, he asked me to help you get settled." 

"Madam Cregg?" Suzanne turned, slowly, the jet lag falling away. "Who ..." The name seemed vaguely familiar, but more than the name echoing in her ears was the smell, the lingering scent of Chanel No. 5. "Madam Cregg?" She repeated, wondering, worried, confused at the smell and the comfort with which Maria spoke the name. She'd been away six weeks, six small weeks to be with the children, and her housekeeper was already familiar with 'Madam Cregg'? 

"Si, Senora. Madam Cregg. She is working with Senor Hoynes." The plump, graying woman took her boss' coat and nodded to the study. "They are in the study, Madam Hoynes, but your husband asked they not be disturbed." 

"Of course he did. That's all right, Maria, I'm still going to put my head in and say hello, it's only polite. Would you mind drawing a bath for me? It was a long flight and I could use some relaxation before dinner. Do I have time before dinner to relax?" 

"Of course, Madam. I will get that going right away." 

Suzanne counted to ten, slowly, before walking to the door of her husband's study. Rarely did she breech the barrier between home and work. Leaving John alone in the small, well decorated room allowed him to emerge and be completely with her and the boys when they were all together. His home office allowed him the chance to entertain potential donors, as well as bring his staff here, to work. As his influence in the Senate building grew, so did his time away from the house - having him here gave her a bit of peace. Having beautiful women cross his threshold never bothered her. After all, women were making inroads into politics and John never brought them into the family's personal space. But, something was different about this staffer, this woman. Maybe it was because Maria had never bothered to address any of them by name before. Maria had never had cause to address any of them by name before. No, this was different. She didn't know if Maria was covering for something her husband was doing, or if it was simply because a woman was finally John's newest favorite staffer, but something was nagging at her. As she walked to the study, she started to think back, and wonder if Maria had ever addressed any of the men by name. 

"Really, you can't think that the proposal to end capital gains taxes is a good one, CJ." 

"Of course I don't. I also know that we can gain a lot more ground if we just get rid of the tax and look at other ways of funding appropriated programs." 

"Like gas taxes?" 

"Like gas taxes and estate taxes and taxes on real income. Also, if we cut the subsidies to the biggest of the companies ..." 

"Oil." 

"Oil being one of them." 

"You know, CJ, you keep talking like this and I'm going to have to throw you out and remind you who pays your salary." 

"EMILY's list pays my salary and just because you have an oil ranch doesn't mean you know everything. Anyway, the oil that you have on your property is cheaper, is refined by American companies that do not buy their oil from overseas - even if they do get it also from Canada, and you're also looking into the oil shale reserves in the Midwest. You aren't the one, personally, funding the instability of the Middle East." 

"Are you defending me because you're hoping to be made campaign chairwoman, or are you defending me because you like me?" John laughed and chucked an eraser head at his lover. 

"Honestly, I'm not sure." CJ caught the eraser head and chucked it back at him. "And who said I liked you? I'm paid to like you. I'd compare it to prostitution, but there are a lot of clients I have whom I'm paid to like and if I'm a prostitute for all of them, I'll just feel like a slut." 

The small crack between the doorjamb and the door allowed the scent of Chanel No. 5 to waft into the hall. The woman's almost raucous laughter carried out of the room and when Suzanne pushed the heavy oak barrier aside, she found her husband leaning back in a chair against his desk, and a long legged woman with her feet up on the small table. The couch cushions swallowed her up, but Suzanne could tell the fingers were long and perfectly kept, and her feet - which were bare -were obviously perfectly pedicured. The long legs were covered in conservative black pants. Nothing seemed suspicious or out of place. The two were discussing politics and finances. That was where she knew the name - this was the woman from EMILY's list. No, nothing seemed out of place, nothing except the smell of Chanel No. 5 in her husband's office. The smell wasn't strong, but it was enough to cover something - and her mind crafted the smell of sex, the smell of her husbands musk mingled with this woman's own scent. Sex. Chanel No. 5. That was what was out of place. But it all looked innocent and the door was open and it was clear they had been working for hours. She was paranoid. She had to be. Six weeks was enough time for Maria to become friendly with a staffer. 

"John?" She pushed the door open and took a good look around, without making it obvious that she was taking a good look around. John's jacket was over the back of his chair, the woman's next to her on the couch. Even John's tie was perfectly in place, and the woman's blouse was unbuttoned rather low, but that was the style with many women today. "I know that you're working but I wanted to tell you I was home." 

"Suzanne." The smile he bestowed upon her was her smile, the smile he had been giving to her since their junior year in high school when he was the star baseball player and she was the head of the JV cheerleading squad and he'd asked her to homecoming. Her smile, her John, she was just paranoid. Yes, paranoid because she'd spent six weeks on an oil and cattle ranch in West Texas and her husband had been here with this woman whom Maria called Madam Cregg. She was paranoid and territorial. "You haven't met CJ yet. Suzanne, this is Claudia Jean Cregg, she's the head of media relations at EMILY's list and my liaison to them. I'm trying to convince her to leave them and come join my team full time." 

"It's wonderful to meet you, Claudia. And from the skills of EMILY's list, I'm sure that if you brought your expertise to John we'd have the White House in a lock." 

"Well, I'll admit that it is a tempting offer." CJ continued to smile, forcing herself to appear cool and professional and hoping that Suzanne couldn't see through her sudden discomfort. 

Suzanne's alarm bells started to sound again and her hand tightened around the intruder's and she found she couldn't speak for a minute. The other woman's hand was warm, too warm, and friendly to a fault. Claudia Jean Cregg was too comfortable in this room, and with the offer John was making about joining his staff. 

CJ filled in the sudden gap in conversation. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Hoynes. Please, call me CJ. Claudia makes me sound like I'm back in Ohio waiting tables." Her eyes diverted to her toes, forced away from looking back over her shoulder at John. She couldn't tell this other woman that John called her "Claudia". 

Suzanne froze as their hands separated. Something was going on, it had to be. The connection between the women was too complete - they shared more than affection for John Hoynes. 

"I should get going, I really didn't realize just how late it was. Senator ..." 

She said the title too smoothly. 

"…It was a pleasure as always and my office will fax these numbers over tomorrow." 

She shouldered her jacket. 

"Mrs. Hoynes, really, it was a pleasure to finally meet face to face." 

"You as well, Claudia." CJ was too informal; CJ meant she could accept what her husband was doing with this woman. "I'm sure we'll be seeing you soon." 

"I'm sure. Good night to both of you." 

CJ left in a cloud of Chanel No. 5. Suzanne wrapped her arms around her husband and kissed him. "Maria drew a bath for me. Come upstairs and let me tell you about the kids. They miss you." 

*** 

CJ giggled while she reached across John for the last slice of pizza. This binge session meant an extra hour at the gym, but it was worth it to just be sitting, enjoying this time with him. For a minute, she could allow herself to imagine that they were normal lovers, sharing the best pizza she'd ever tasted. How had she managed to live here for so long and not know about this place? "That one is mine!" 

"Hey, I bought dinner!" He laughed and tackled her back onto the couch, enjoying how casual everything was today. Right now, she wasn't his mistress, she was his girlfriend and they were enjoying the X-Files marathon on Fox. Everything was normal, comfortable. And he'd let her have the slice of pizza, but she'd have to endure his groping her first. "When do I get dessert?" 

"You really are the horniest man in the world, you know that, right? And there's ice cream in the freezer if you're wanting sweet stuff." She turned her head to the side, catching a glimpse of David Duchovny on the TV screen. "What are we watching again?" 

With a chuckle, John let her up and reached over to get the pizza for her. "The X-Files. You're a PR specialist and you don't know pop culture? By the way, it's hard to fondle you through jeans, you know that, right?" 

"I'm a _political_ PR specialist and I thought you liked me in jeans." CJ leaned back into the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. John fed her the pizza slice, after stealing a bite for himself. 

"I _like_ you in anything, I _prefer_ you naked and on top of me." He kissed away a bit of stray sauce from the side of her mouth. 

"You know," CJ ran her hand down his chest, toying with the buttons on his shirt. "It's amazing that we don't get caught." 

"Okay, you know, I always have a good time until you start feeling guilty." He sighed and stared at the TV for a long minute, watching Gillian Anderson's muted mouth argue with David Duchovny's pouty face. For an instant he glimpsed the future, a future with CJ and away from guilt and it felt wonderful. Feeling her start to shift away from him, John turned and took her hand, "Claudia, say the word. I'll leave Suzanne, you know that I will, right?" 

"John, we've been sneaking around like this for two months. The rush is still what's fueling us. I am not going to have you ruin your career over something that might fall apart the minute you leave your wife." She stared at commercials for the new line of Ford SUVs, trying to work out her feelings. Until January, she hadn't been a woman who did things like this; she'd been a woman who condemned women for doing exactly what she was doing. 

"You think we'd fall apart the minute I left Suzanne?" 

CJ could hear the hurt in his voice, but she had to be honest with him. "I don't know." She looked into his eyes. "I wish I knew the answer to that, it's what would make me know what to do with us. But you've been married for how long? Since you graduated high school? You have kids! You have a very visible career! There are ... implications ... to what we're discussing. I'm your mistress, John. Days like this one, where we hang out and relax don't change the fact that you've got a wife and kids and a life that doesn't, and shouldn't, include me. Do I think that we could be happy together? Yes. But there's also a reality outside that door and it's a reality I'm faced with a hell of a lot more than you because I'm a woman. You can recover if we're discovered. I would become the joke on Jay Leno." 

Silence met her words and minutes dragged on before John gathered her close "I know. I don't like it, but I know it. I'm not saying that I'll move out tomorrow, I'm saying it's on my mind. We're more than a fling, CJ." 

She let his lips capture hers in a gentle kiss. "I know we are. But we aren't enough for you to change your entire life over. Not yet. It's still all about the sex and the passion; we haven't even had a _real_ fight yet. Talk to me about longevity after I throw you out on your ass the first time." Arthur's punctuating "woof" made both of them laugh. 

*** 

Suzanne frowned as she came into the house. That feeling was back, the one from January, the one from the day she'd met CJ for the first time, the one from last month when the whole family had gone to the EMILY's list party, the one from earlier this week when John had called to say he was going to miss dinner because of work at the office. Laughter drew her to her husband's study, and she peeked in, wanting to catch him in the act of ... something. What she found was CJ leaning back on the couch, leafing through recent photographs of John and looking totally professional. John, for his part, was vetoing photos she handed to him. 

"Suzanne?!" John had heard the front door open and close, "Is that you, honey?" 

Forcing a smile to her face, Suzanne opened the door to the study but didn't come inside. "Yes, I'm home. Just now. Hello, Claudia. I didn't realize you'd be here." 

"Hi, Mrs. Hoynes." CJ swallowed the butterflies in her stomach and smiled warmly at John's wife. It was always nerve racking, being face to face with this other woman, yet somehow, slowly, it was getting easier. "It was a bit of an impulse. We were able to get some new publicity shots done of the Senator." 

"Isn't it a bit early to be doing a push like this?" The scent of the other woman's perfume was strong, fresh. The impulse had been something other than publicity shots, but she had to pride both of them on their creativity. In any other world, her friends would be looking at her strangely and waiting for her to figure it out. Her friends had no idea, but she knew. She knew. She just wished she had evidence. 

"It's a good time in the fiscal cycle to get some hard money into the coffers. We let it sit and gain interest and then when we actually need to start campaigning, we have money for both yours and your husband's campaign work." 

"Ahh yes, my own campaign work. Part of me had forgotten I'd be doing that." Suzanne eyed her carefully. She had no reason to feel anything but powerful when standing next to CJ Cregg. Both of them were tall, well groomed women who were revered in socialite society. Both of them could make men's hearts stop. And both of them, she knew, were fucking her husband. 

"It's easy to put out of your mind, I know. Actually, if it's all right, I would like to set up some time for photographs of the whole family to be taken. Especially some of you, Mrs. Hoynes." CJ bent and gathered her files. Suzanne watched her husband's response, wanting to find any hint of a roving eye or a shift in his body language, but he just laughed and helped her with her files and focused on the photographs. It was all perfectly professional; professional enough to almost convince her that she was insane and this feeling was all based in territorial instincts and fear. CJ was exactly the kind of woman her husband would have married, had he not married her. Her attention shifted as she heard CJ speaking again. Even the hand that was placed on John's upper arm came across as innocent. "Senator, I'll see you next week sometime, Carol will call your office. And," she offered a warm smile to Suzanne, "I really would love to set up some time. Can I have my assistant give you a call?" 

"Of course, Claudia," Suzanne replied smoothly. "We'll be in touch." 

"Great." CJ smiled at both of them, "I'll see you later." She couldn't escape the house fast enough. 

Suzanne waited until the front door closed behind the other woman before rolling her eyes. "You know, I never come in here. I'll just have to change that policy." 

He narrowed his eyes at her. Did she suspect? "Suzanne, it's just CJ." 

"Yes, the woman who is going to get you elected President. Do me a favor and when you do win, please don't make her Chief of Staff. She's smart and she's talented but I just don't know if I could handle you seeing more of her than me." She looked at her husband again and sighed, seeing the hurt in his eyes at her tone. Maybe she really was paranoid. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm jealous. She has you wrapped around her finger and the Presidential campaigning doesn't even start for years. Not in earnest." 

"Suzanne, we've talked about this." 

"And I'm behind you, I always will be." She stepped back from the door; the smell of Chanel No. 5 was just a bit much. "I'm going to go check on how far along dinner is. Why don't you finish up whatever you need to finish up and maybe then we can give your children a call. It's been a couple of days since you had the time to talk to them." 

*** 

"Suzanne suspects." CJ settled her head onto his chest, listening to the strong thump of his heart. 

"I know." John trailed his fingers through her hair. The late afternoon sun filtered through her blinds, casting rose shadows around the bedroom. Saturday afternoon, he'd come straight here after dropping Suzanne off at the airport, and found comfort just in curling up next to CJ. "She's barely spoken to me since the other night." 

"John ..." 

"CJ, I'm going to mention something and I want you to not hit me or threaten to kill me or even throw me out, like you keep threatening to do every time I mention it. I want you to be honest with me about how you feel." He looked down as she looked up, and their eyes met. "I mean it. And no matter your answer, it doesn't change how I feel about you." 

"Stop rambling, John." She knew what he was going to bring up and she needed to shoot it down, and quickly. 

"What would your reaction be if I filed for separation from Suzanne? I've brought this up before, but CJ, it's time to actually think about it. I file for separation and we cool ourselves off for a couple of months ... then we can slowly dip into the pool ... it lets us be together. Like we want to be." 

"John ..." 

"It's not hypothetical. How would you feel?" 

CJ pulled away, tears in her eyes. "You're serious this time." 

"Deadly." 

"John!" Tears choked her. "You don't want to do this!" 

"I don't know if I want to do it, CJ!" He reached up and stroked her cheek. "I do know that I haven't felt this alive in years. I know that I came over here this afternoon and I'm lying right here with you on your bed, fully clothed, and this is happiness. It's more than listening to the way you call my name or loving the way you touch me. It's more than the excitement of clandestine sex tucked away after dinner ... it's us. It's how you tell me in one breath that I make too much money for a Democrat and in the next breath tell me that you'd happily support me proposing a capital gains tax, or better, yet a gas tax. A tax, by the way, that will kill any hope for a Presidential run. I know that I love the way you are a true-blue Democrat, more so than the party has seen in a long time and yet you can't stand Affirmative Action or the ERA. I know that when we're together, I feel like I have a purpose again. I know you would make an amazing First Lady. I know that I'm in love with you." 

"John ..." CJ touched his cheek. "You married Suzanne. And if you hadn't married Suzanne and we'd met at that party in January we could be talking seriously about my being at your side when you run for President. You don't think I want that too? When I wake up alone, I want you here! When I think of a ring on my hand, I want you to be the one to put it there! But, John, you married Suzanne. And you want to be President. And if you leave your wife now and show up with me in public a year later, even the hint of the scandal it will be, and trust me I can spin a scandal but it will still be one, that scandal will end your Presidential ambitions. We've had this talk in the hypothetical, now we're having it for real. This will ruin you. I will ruin you. And we already know that we can't keep up what we're doing ... you're going to be running for President in a couple of years and I fully intend to be working that campaign, and we won't have the ability to sneak away to your suite to do what we do so well. But if you stay with Suzanne, you can achieve your dream. If you didn't want to be President, you could leave her. But I know your heart. When you make love, when you eat, when you sleep, when you breathe, you want to be President. You can't do that with Suzanne suspecting what she suspects and me hanging on your arm." He'd said it, said those words, words she'd been fighting against. 

"CJ ..." He sighed and covered her hand with his. She was right, and he hated it. "So in other words, we go until we have to break up? And then we're supposed to just be able to work together?" He'd noticed she hadn't repeated the words back to him, and it stung more than he wanted to admit. Did she really not feel the same way? 

"Yeah." She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent, trying to shake the desperate tears from her eyes. 

"Any other advice for me?" He knew he was distant, but it hurt. He'd risked so much to dare to fall in love with her, and she didn't feel the same way? 

"Hire Josh Lyman. Steal him away from his work as floor manager for the House. If anyone can help get you elected, it's him." 

"You're saying that because you don't know if you will be there when I start running." His heart started to sink. 

"If there is any hint of a scandal ..." She blinked back tears. "I won't ruin your career, John." 

"You could save my career, CJ." 

"No." She leaned down to kiss him. "That's where you're a complete and total idiot." 

"I love you," he whispered when they broke for air, hoping against hope she would return the words. 

"I love you, too." The words slipped out before she could think about them. "And it's why I can't let you do this. It's why we need to love each other now, because there's going to be a point where it has to end between us. You're going to be President someday and I'm going to keep working for groups like EMILY's list." 

"Why can't you be on my staff?" 

"Because we can't keep our hands off each other and we won't be able to work together platonically. We've proved that. Yes, I have dreams of being your Chief of Staff, but hire Josh. He'll do good by you." 

His arms tightened around her and he sighed. "You aren't leaving me yet, right?" 

"Did I say I was? I'm going to live in this fantasy world where Suzanne doesn't really exist, and I'm going to drag it out as long as possible." 

"Shouldn't we end it now, before we're in so deep ..." 

"We're already in deep, John. We're in love." She moved her head back to his chest. His heartbeat had sped up. "Let's not ... just ... don't mention it again, John. Please. We aren't ready to have the "what happens next" conversation ... not yet. Because what happens next ..." 

"I know." His fingers caressed through her hair. "God ..." 

"I want you to leave her," CJ whispered. "I'll admit that. But I want you to be President more. And you want to be President more. But that you even consider it ... it means a lot to me." 

"Claudia ..." He nibbled at her neck, tasting sweat and tears and Chanel No. 5. He'd learned that scent; he loved how it fit her just perfectly. It was sweet and strong and eternal, just like she was. "I ..." 

"I know." She kissed him. "I know. So just make love to me right now. We'll figure the rest of it out later, because if we try now, it's going to break both our hearts." 

"It's going to break our hearts anyway." 

"I know." 

"So I should just make love to you, and cherish that my wife is back in Texas for the next six weeks?" 

"Yes." 

He knew she was right, and he loved her for it and he hated the fact that he'd married his high school sweetheart. He didn't like that he was still in love with Suzanne, even while being in love with CJ. He knew the smart thing was to get off the bed and break it off and ask her to transfer his file to someone else at EMILY's list. Instead, he kissed CJ and told her he loved her and snuggled her as she responded in kind. 

He pulled her t-shirt over her head, and obeyed her earlier request with a soft, gentle slowness. This was going to end, and it wouldn't end well, so they needed to enjoy every last second they had together. He _was_ going to the White House someday, but not with CJ at his side. But for the next six weeks, Suzanne was in Texas with the boys and he could focus on this, right here, right in front of him. 

_To Be Continued ..._

_Story Copyright May 2006_


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